Life is Art

I'm sick today. Only a slight sore throat, but a lot more debilitating is the accompanying depression / tiredness. I did several hours of paperwork / bill-paying today and it seems like that was an unfortunate choice as it only made me more weary. As I write this my husband and children are at our friends' place - friends whose loveliness and graceful hospitality I feel too wretched to sully with my appearance and demeanor.

I put in a call to a girlfriend tonight to see if she wanted to sit on my couch and watch a movie or something equally as low-key. She hasn't called back yet, and as I sit here I become less and less interested in doing anything, speaking with a fellow member of the human race, or even putting pants on.

I've had this picture up in one of my Firefox tabs for the last few hours. A friend of mine said she thinks my husband looks like him (it's Martin Freeman as Tim in the BBC's "The Office"). I keep accidentally clicking on it and getting this quasi-serious staredown from a cute British Ralph doppleganger.

Labels: burnout